Miles To Go Before I Sleep
by Shijin-sama
Summary: Ariana Blackwell called Ari of Caulderon, an avid member of a medieval re-enactment group and an up and coming competition archer gains more than she ever wanted when she wins the Kingdom tourney and finds herself in Sherwood Forest. S1AU/OC-centric
1. Laces

Whose woods are these I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow

* * *

"You look like a freak." Ari's dark green eyes skittered away from the reflection of her fingers busily lacing the snug green wool doublet in the to focus on the counterpart impression of her roommate hovering in the mirror somewhere above the region of Ari's right shoulder. Her roommate of a year or so was flipping the glossy pages of a People magazine languidly, tiny feet tucked beneath her on the couch. Blue eyes glanced up, full of haughty disdain perfect lips sliding into a smile that seemed to read, it's alright I know you'll never be as good as me. "Really," the honey soft voice returned, "dressing up like a reject extra from some weird fantasy movie." A snort of derision followed and flip went the flimsy pages. The smile never slipping from her face, but never reaching her pretty cornflower blue eyes. Ari wanted to wince, but suppressed the need, mouth twisting into a sad mockery of a smile.

"Gwendolyn if I wanted to be around a blond bird brained bitch, I would have stayed at home where my mother could just scream down the hall at me, and not take the extra effort to call me." The laces twined in and out quietly, reflected back in the hazy cheep dollar store mirror tacked to the back of the living room door. It was a testament to just how much to two roommates hated each other that the blond woman on the couch never even batted an eye at either the harsh language or the even harsher sentiment expressed. Insults had become something of a morning ritual between the two, and no topic was sacred or any little detail to obscure for either to drag into the light of day.

"Well that's too bad sweetie," Gwendolyn's blond crowned head dipped back down to the magazine's enticing pages a sardonic smile staining her otherwise beautiful face, "you never really get what you want do you."

Ari just grunted and tied the final knot with a decisive motion, before tugging at the bottom of the self sown doublet downwards in an unbidden bout self-consciousness. Turning away from the mirror she patted the loose chignon that held her dusky brown hair back as she went. It wouldn't do for it to come undone in the middle of something or God forbid tomorrow while she was in the middle of the tourney. Even in a friendly competition she hated to lose, let alone in a competition that included the whole of the Kingdom, so risking a loose hairdo was a no go, even the day before. There was some parable about always being prepared, or maybe it was some sort of motto, she sucked her bottom lip quietly as she contemplated the difference. Skirting the edge of the white foe-leather couch, Gwendolyn's god-awful choice not Ari's, making her way towards the kitchen counter where her fiberglass composite bow and full quiver lay, looking odd and out of place under the glow of the florescent lights.

"Who knows," Ari's eyes flirted sideways towards the couch and its occupant, surprised the egocentric girl had bothered to make any sound at all. Gwendolyn, ever one to want attention was watching her, elbow propped on the back of the couch, chin cupped in her oddly turned hand. "perhaps one day you might even snag yourself a man with that delightful little contraption."

"Bow." the snark was back in her voice now.

"Oh I know what they call it darling, I just couldn't give a damn, especially when I know how it annoys you so." The other woman twisted back into her former seat, a school girlish giggle on her lips. Scooping her bow and quiver into her waiting arms Ari simply settled with making a dirty face at the back of the couch, and Gwendolyn's head. She detained for a second the awful fantasy of punching the blond, but really she already had a record, there was no need to add assault and battery with an armed weapon to the list of misdemeanors she already had to her name. Making sure she had a careful hold of the two biggest moneymakers she had, she glanced back around the apartment, checking of a mental list of things she needed, and had presumably already remembered and placed in her small car earlier this morning, before heading into her room to change into her garb.

Ari let her eyes roam once more over the apartments large main room before turning and bundling the bow and quiver under her arms. These beauties would be getting the queens treatment, a nice ride in the passenger seat of her old red hatchback. It was a bad idea to let them roll about in the back with the heavy tent and Tupperware boxes filled with clean garb, odds and ends used for fetching, and other sundry bits and activities to fill what little free time she was going to have over the week long event. Moving quickly, best not to wake the sleeping Gwendolyn dragon she ruminated, she paused at the door to tap the doorjamb three times with the toe of brown leather boot, for good luck as her father had always said to her when she was younger, and more likely to believe in the little superstitious beliefs of the world.

Checking the watch on her left wrist as she shoulder checked the door behind her shut she swore softly she sped her pace down the hallway taking the stares two or three at a time. The event opened at five and was at a state park about three hours away, so if she wanted to get there in time she needed to hoof it, especially if she expected to get a halfway decent spot to sleep. Her tent was small, but space at these things was at a premium, especially since she was so new to this particular kingdom.

As she buckled herself into the seat of her old gremlin, stuffed full of all sorts of gear needed to re-enact the medieval ages in all of its presumed glory, and paused to take a moment to look up at the clean white façade of her apartment complex, and contemplate all of the things that it meant to her. After a short pause, she mentally and physically shook herself, and simply turned her car on, reversing out, and finally away from the dingy apartment, with its bitch of a roommate, and the dead end secretary's job. Now she wasn't just Ariana Blackwell secretary, she was Ari of Caulderon, the finest archer in all of the kingdom, and so what if she preferred a make belief life to the one she truly had.

* * *

"Ari you made it!" Ari stumbled backwards as a pair of thick darkly haired arms wrapped around her torso and she went twisting into the air, swinging madly about, a smile plastered on her own face as she was greeted by a familiar and comforting sight. John the Bear, a huge towering man dressed in a kilt of blue and red and with enough hair to rival his namesake had her by the waist and was greeting her in the only way he seemed to recognize, enthusiastically.

"Alright, alright," she chortled squirming about in his hold, "now that you've greeted me properly can you please do me a favor and let me down, I feel like I'm suffocating." John grinned at her and settled her back down onto her feet, scratching his full bristling brown beard a sort of chagrined smile on his handsome face.

"Well I woldn' be a proper Scotsman if I didn'a greet my favorite little fighter prop'ly now would I?" he asked waving a large hand about his brown eyes twinkling down at her. She shrugged and gestured to her car, which was parked on the grass verge nearby.

"Could you possibly see your large Scottish self helping a little Englishwoman gather her gear and helping her set it up at camp?" she asked coyly scuffing her leather boot clad feet against the dirt and fluttering her eyelashes madly at him. He gave a bark of laughter at her outrageous mannerisms but doffed his slightly worn and dirty cap with a flourish towards her car.

"As Milady wishes." He lisped out, the perfect imitation of any Hollywood English butler. Ari fluttered her eyelashes again and dipped out a ditsy curtsy pretending to blush fetchingly a hand fluttering at her breast, looking a sight in her wools and leathers, but no more than anyone else here. She trotted towards her car in her best imitation of the way a high lady would walk, John trailing after her, hat still clutched in his large mitts. Neither could hide their ever widening smiles as they approached the back of her hatchback in a manner that would have been beloved of the most eccentric high school drama teacher that there ever was.

"Is this the car Milady wishes unloaded?" John asked whipping his hat about him as if he was trying to swat some tyrannically sized bug from the air, his English butler's accent still very evident. It was at this that Ari lost her cool, and soon both were leaning against her car, faces red and eyes streaming with tears as they howled with mutual laughter. "God I missed you John." She wheezed out hands resting on her knees as she gasped for breath, her back pressed against the cool metal of the car.

"Aye' an I missed yea too lass." John breathed as he settled on the small lip at the back of the hatchback. Aria let her head fall back against the car as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the clean air that wafted through the park. She had missed John, really she had. He had been gone, back to Scotland on family business, and she had been in the middle of moving from one big city to another equally large city, and they had not been able to do anything other than e-mail each other back and forth for what seemed like an eternity. It was a blessing that once things had settled back down they had been able to find an event that was about the middle of the distance that either would have to cover to see the other.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation Ari levered herself back onto her feet and motioned for the huge man to move. With a grunt and a smile John took the suggestion and picked himself up, allowing Ari room enough to lean in and unlock the hatchbacks back compartment. What followed was a long process of moving boxes, setting up tents. She and John had managed to get a prime spot, less than ten feet from the bathroom. When the dust had settled, the campfire had been started, and the day was fading into dusk John pulled out the traditional red and white cooler.

"So have I heard correctly," John started as he lifted the of the top much abused cooler and fished out two cans of beer and a pack of hotdogs, "that you plan on entering the archery tourney tomorrow?" One of the beers he tossed to Ari, who caught it easily and popped the top quietly leaning back into her folding chair. She took a sip of the pungent liquid before she answered.

"Well, yes it's been months and I simply can't have my name disappearing from the limelight." She offered him a sardonic smile to match her tone as she settled one hand into the crook of her elbow and wagged the beer can at him as if admonishing a small child.

"Aye that's what I thought." He said with a grin as he settled his feet up on the cooler and handed her a spitted hotdog. She took it with a grateful smile, settling the beer on the ground next to her, and sticking the dog into the warm flames.

"Now about that boy you mentioned in your e-mails…"

The rest of the night was spent in quiet revelry and good memories, as any good reunion should. Ari would need these memories soon, to hold her through the quiet nights ahead.

* * *

"Wake up lass," Ari groaned and rolled over, swatting at the hand that was invading her very dear and cherished personal space. Yet try as she might the loud booming voice just kept on echoing in her tender brain and she groaned pitifully slapping a forearm across her eyes. "Come now, ye have a tourney to participate in and a hangover to work off, ye need to get up." John rubbed a hand over his beard as he stared down at the prone and limp body of his protégé. Her chignon was still intact, she would appreciate that, but she still looked like hell warmed over, even asleep. Arms and legs sprawled everywhere in her small tent, drool dripping down her chin, and dark bruised circles under her eyes that would give a raccoon pause. He sighed and scratched his head lightly debating the differing levels of anger he might experience if he let her sleep and miss the tourney qualifiers, or the wrath he would receive if he woke her up.

With yet another long suffering sigh he leaned down and swiftly stuffed his hands under the slumbering woman's armpits. With a heave he had her out of the pile of blankets and into the early morning air. Dragging her towards the bathrooms he ignored the increasingly loud protestations of the fighter in his arms as she swiftly rose to wakefulness. Though unusual in nature John apparently had a plan for this little escapade, as he seemed to have a particular destination in mind. This was a good, because Ari was almost completely awake by now.

"The fu-". The curse was lost in a series of sputtering and retching sounds as John unceremoniously dropped his former page and with the ease of long practice, turned the hose on her.

"Oh God Damn! Fuck! You asshole!" Ari roared leaping to her feet and flailing her fists in the general direction of her cold water attacker. John chuckled leaning out of the range of her furious, if uncoordinated, attack. Reaching down he twisted the handle of the hose back off and chucked the incongruous green snake back down onto the slightly muddy ground next to the camp bathroom. He regarded his muddy and drenched young friend with an amused expression. She looked sort of like a wet and furious cat he supposed. Her hair was flattened and her face was smeared with dirt and mud, the expression she sported, he thought, was a mixture of mutiny and rage.

"Its seven." He said

"Why the hell-" she paused, "FUCK!"

He just chuckled as she scrambled just about as ungracefully as a person can back towards the tents. He meandered off towards the archery range. He had the feeling that today would be a very good day indeed.


	2. Fires

"Let it be known throughout the Kingdom that on this day, the twenty-fifth of April in the year of our Lord two thousand and ten…" The herald's voice boomed over the field's length and Ari's eyebrow twitched as a drop of sweat slowly rolled down the side of her face. It had to be approaching one hundred or so degrees now as the midday sun scorched the earth beneath it with an unrelenting and harsh gaze. The dark haired archer stood, hands clasped together on her bow, feet spread apart slightly eyes fixed calmly forward on the distant red and white targets. Her breath came in even puffs and she gently smoothed her tongue over dry chapped lips.

"We gather here in the presence of the Lord and our King and Queen." the herald flourished a hand towards a large pavilion in which two ornately dressed figures rested in high backed beautifully carved oaken thrones. The King waved a hand and dipped his head while the Queen simply smiled softly. The King, it was known, had a love for tourneys of any kind, as it was in a melee tourney not unlike the one Ari was participating in now, where he had won his title. Though for all his love for tourneys he was a Knight and a swordsman, not an archer like the men and woman who were competing out on the hot field on this day, and so he had no real hand in planning anything. It was in fact his wife, a female fighter of renown as great as her husband who had orchestrated the whole event and who would be giving out the title to the lucky winner at the end of the day.

"To find the greatest archer our people have ever seen." The herald turned to the crowd who was eagerly pressed up against the rope that separated the tourney field from the rest of the camp. They were an eclectic mix of men and women dressed in everything from shorts and tank tops to long woolen dresses and ancient Chinese styled tunics. The crowd murmured in appreciation as the herald wafted towards the small ragged line of the finalists.

"As you all know," the herald continued, "we have narrowed the field to these three!" he beckoned towards the competitors. Ari sighed, she would have rather had a few more moments to check out the targets, but the people needed to be wowed by someone and it might as well be her. Turning she offered the crowd a crooked smile.

"Adam of Westover!" The herald boomed and a short stout man with wispy blond hair and bright blue eyes who looked to be in his late forties stepped forwards and gave a small bow to the assembled peerage, and a deep bow and a salute towards the tent of the royals.

"James DeLacour!" A man with long dark hair and a well trimmed beard stepped forwards and repeated the same motions, though his bows were somehow smaller and seemed to portray some kind of contempt. Ari held back the snort that formed in her throat. Some people, she had always thought to herself, took the re-enactment a little too literally. Backstabbing and politicking were rampant throughout the entire system from the lowest shire to the highest kingdom. It was a little absurd but for some people it was the treachery and double dealing that they loved, not the competition like Ari did, and really who was she to deny someone their fix.

"Ari of Caulderon!" Ari stepped forward and dipped into a curtsy a mocking smile evident on her face. From the direction of the spectators area that typically held the other fighters the dark haired woman could hear the faint sound of John's laughter. She shifted and repeated the action, this time low and sincere. As much as she didn't like the politics, she still had a very healthy respect for the king and queen. After all unlike real medieval practice the king won his position in an actual fight, and so only the best of the best were allowed to "govern". From the stories John told of when he was a younger man the current king was a great swordsman and a deeply kind and caring man who also happened to be a lawyer. She supposed that enthusiast came from all kinds.

The herald continued to prattle on to the crowd here as the three final archers were herded to the line by one the tourney officials, the man dressed in the livery of the kingdom tiredly repeated the rules and regulations to them, scratching a hand through his hair as he cast a glance at the sun. The three contestants simply nodded and muttered their concentration on the targets in front of them, and the bows I there hands. Winning this tourney would gain them a title, that of a Baron or Baroness, as well as the respect and admiration of the many people who made up the citizens of the "world" in which they re-enacted. All three had been through rigorous qualifiers and semi-finals before even being invited to participate in the final event. Even now there was a small contingent of both sore and kind losers from earlier in the day clustered as close as possible to the edge of the field, watching the three who had managed to beat all of them out.

Now it came down to three and one simple final confrontation. Three targets, three people, winner takes all. All one had to do was place the most arrows in the target, as close as possible to the center, in under sixty seconds. Simple really in theory, but a son of bitch in practice, the average rate of fire for a longbow man was between eight and twelve shots per minute, they would have to be that good, or better. Not only were they pulling back sixty or so pounds of weight every six seconds they were also trying to place a consistently accurate shot at a target that was over four hundred yards away.

Stepping up to the line scuffed into the dirt Ari made ready shuffling her feet and bending her knees slightly. A hush fell over the assembled crowd as all three competitors fell still, eyes trained on the distant targets. The people had been waiting a week for this, for this final confrontation.

"You may draw." The Herald's voice was, for once, not at all loud, but for some sort of strange reason it echoed, more powerful than any of his previous words of boast.

Ari reached behind her back, dragging a single arrow from her quiver the tip seeming to way a hundred thousand pounds. Her vision was tunneling, her heart pounding in her chest so hard she was sure it would leap from her throat and run away down the field, time slowed and everything seemed as if it was new and freshly made. She could feel, in a distant way, the arrow being knocked against the bow, and then as if in a dream she heard the herald shouting and his hand falling.

The first arrow thrummed from her bow, then a second, and a third. Her breath whistled from between her teeth, a fierce grin splitting her face. She did not waste any of her time glancing at the other targets around her or at the faces of the crowd. Focus, focus, focus she chanted in her head. FOCUS. A fourth and a fifth arrow followed and she felt her arms beginning to tire, but she gritted her teeth in that smile and fought on. She needed to be perfect, absolutely perfect, she needed to fight, and she needed to win. In this moment she was Ari of Cauldron, a fierce warrior of England, not Ariana of Vergasburg Tennessee a mousy social secretary who couldn't bring herself to be anything other than a doormat.

Six, Seven, eight, nine. She was screaming in her head, and in the distance she could hear the Herald bellowing. A final arrow loosed from her fingers and then the world went silent and still.

* * *

The sensation was one she would never forget, the world was white and silent and then just as suddenly as it had been there, it was gone, and all around her there was screaming. The world was on fire and Ari stumbled slightly slamming awkwardly into a wooden wall. Hacking and coughing she struggled forwards knocking into what seemed to be wooden support beams along her way. Her eyes swam and she could feel tears streaming down her face, where was she, where the fuck was she? The toe of her boot slammed against something soft and pliant and she went sprawling face first to the rough wooden floor. Kicking furiously Ari twisted sideways aiming to gain her feet again. She shrieked loudly eyes widening pulse quickening even further as she came face to face with the half charred corpse of a middle aged woman. Stringy charred hair fell across a sightless ashen grey face with dull lifeless brown eyes. Broken ragged yellow teeth poked out from between a gaping mouth filled with a swollen blackened tongue.

Ari fought down an urge to vomit as she lurched to her feet slipping backwards on wobbly legs, only to trip and be sent stumbling again; though this time she managed to retain her feet. She let out another scream as she realized, to her own horror and disgust that the room was filled with half burned plagued bodies. Some seemed to have died from some sort of disease, but others had wounds sharp and long, and to others ragged. Here and there she could see the shattered shaft of an arrow poking from the bodies of the recently deceased. Bending to the right she began to wretch, emptying her stomach of all its contents in a series of long protracted spouts. Her stomach ached and her nostrils, mouth, and throat burned, and in the back of her mind she could consciously feel the fire burning all around her consuming everything. The cloying sent of death and disease mixed with the pungent smell of burning wood and refuse wafted around her.

Shoving a hand to her mouth she stumbled forwards again, tripping and falling real tears of pain and sorrow and confusion dripping down her face. Her back slammed against wood, and once again she was sent sprawling. Cold air buffeted against her face and she wheezed. He throat burned still harder and she could feel her body beginning to turn cold. Her eyes blinked open, her vision still murky from the smoke and the tears. She had time enough to glimpse a sky filled with stars as bright as beacons and treetops luridly lit by white hot flames, before she felt a sharp pain in her scalp. She yowled in pain as she was dragged upwards, and he fingers spasmed, her bow sliding dangerously one end dragging through the slushy snow that covered the mud she had landed in.

"Got me one." Someone grunted as she weakly lifted a hand to her hair fingers digging at the hand of her captor. "Looks like a 'beaut as well." There was a bout of male snickering all around her and she was dragged backwards away from the burning building. She started screaming in earnest her fingers kicking against the ground, fist pounding against her abuser.

"Oooh the 'lil Maid likes to play boy doesn't she." The man above her crooned, apparently noticing her state of dress, as he reached down and snatched the bow from her hand, negligently tossing it to one of his compatriot, who smugly began running his fingers up and down the polished length of fiberglass apparently marveling at its strength and craftsmanship.

"Mmm, who thinks we should have a little fun with this one before we finish our duties to the Sherriff. Me thinks he won't have a bit of a problem wit us educating, "with this he jerked on her hair again and she whimpered in pain, "this little boy impersonator that a woman's place is underneath a man." The men around her seemed to think this the funniest wittiest thing they had ever heard for they immediately burst into loud raucous laughter.

Ari screamed again, before being roughly silenced with what seemed to be some sort of dirty mud covered rag in her mouth. She kept screaming around the scratchy foul tasting material, these men were going to _rape_ her. Where was she, where was she?! Her struggles became even more wild as she writhed furiously against the seemingly iron strong hold on her hair. She was not going to be raped, she was NOT going to be raped, this was some sort of nightmare, it had to be. She started chanting the phrase in her mind; it was all some horrible nightmare.

It was only when she was roughly slammed against the dirty wooden wall of a barn and there was a large hairy man sucking at her neck that she finally gave up that notion. No nightmare was this real, this visceral and terrifying. Outside she could hear the joking of the men, the argument over who would have her next and a debate over how they should dispose of her after. They seemed torn between gutting her from neck to tail and leaving her to bleed out or throwing her back into the burning building. They all agreed that both were splendid ideas, but really it was just a matter of personal taste.

Ari could taste the salty tears falling down her face, and feel the wet grasping mouth of the man moving downwards on her throat as he ground harshly into her pelvis. She could even see, if she concentrated, the outline of her bow, hanging from a nail nearby. It was in this perfectly clear moment, when she realized that all of this was real, that she decided she was not going to let this happen. She was not going to let herself be raped and die, in any manner of fashion. Her feet scrabbled against the wood behind her and she reared forwards. The man took this as some sort of assent for he seemed even more eager now. One hand reached up to strip his conical helmet form his head while the other began to eagerly kneed her breast through the thickness of her doublet and tunic.

He lifted his head lips seeking hers for a sloppy kiss. It was then that she struck, rearing her head back and slamming it into the crown of his forehead. Her vision went white for a split second, and her head roared with pain, but he had loosened his hold. Reflexively he knee rammed upwards into his armored stomach, and again her body exploded in pain and the armored man went reeling backwards, finally letting go of her completely. She thanked the lord in heaven for having taken those self defense lessons in college, for she knew how to throw a punch, and as some of her ex-boyfriends could attest to; she had a mean right hook. It was second before the guard went sprawling in the feted hay. Scrambling away she half fell onto the barrel that her bow was propped against, her legs turned to jelly. She wanted to scream and cry, sob out her fears, but she could not.

Her pale shaking hands clutched the only familiar thing in this whole blighted nightmare. The man on the ground groaned and began to roll over, and she bolted. The only door was guarded by who knew many men, so she took the stairs to the loft three at a time blinded by terror and unfeeling now in her despair. She would only vaguely remember the window, and the dash to the forests edge. Most of that night that she would remember would be the cold and the terror. She wandered listless through the snowy woods, dragging her tired and sore body up and down hills and through snowdrifts that were sometimes as large as her friend John the bear. Her tears froze against her face, and when she finally fell into an exhausted stupor it was with the feeling that she might not wake to the feel of the morning sun on her face ever again.


	3. Outlaws

"Is she alive do ya 'tink?"

"I dunno brudder, she looks like she might be breathin'."

Ari stirred slightly her mind coming back to her in bits and bobs. She felt, cold, very cold and tired for some reason. Which she was sure didn't make any sense because if she was only just now waking up, she must have been asleep before which meant she couldn't be tired, right? Either she could not feel her fingers or toes; she thought this rather odd and wondered if that meant anything. She supposed it might, she also supposed that laying here for a spell might do her some sort of good, for she had no real need for movement she though.

"Hum, well she is dressed a might oddly." The first voice remarked a hint of bafflement in his voice, "Wonder where she's from. Mighty odd to see a woman dressed in breaches."

"Could be foreign, she looks foreign," the second voice was thicker, deeper; "I hear some 'o those other countries follow heathen practices, maybe that's one of 'em."

"Must be a lady though." Of this statement the voice sounded sure.

"Well how do you recon that." She felt a gentle nudge against her arm. She simply shifted and groaned legs kicking against something semi-solid. Snow she guessed, after all it had been particularly bad outside last night hadn't it snowing and sort of raining, a really mushy combination when one got down to it. Then it occurred to her that it was kind of a bit odd for her to be outside while it was snowing, she pondered that for a while before twisting again. Sleeping on a thin cover of snow over the roots of a tree really wasn't comfortable, even aside from the funny little voices she was hearing in her dream, or whatever it was that this thing was right now.

"Ooh she's wakin up." The deeper voice sounded excited, almost childlike with glee.

"Well that's neither here nor there; she's not opened her eyes yet. Anyway how do you recon 'er bein a lady?"

She could hear shuffling and someone cleared their throat. The first voice started up again.

"Well look at 'er, aside from the dirt and the soot, and the whole being wet thing, she's mighty clean, and look at her nails, their all shiny and not chipped. I'll eat my hat if she's not some crazy noble foreign lady."

"Well why don we wake 'er up and ask?"

"Mmm, good point Robert."

Ari almost screamed in terror as a hand reached behind her head and lifted her up by the hood of her jerkin. Her eyes snapped open and her fist swung out catching a rather scruffy looking man in the jaw. They both went sprawling into the snow and she quickly righted herself, fists slamming upwards eyes cautious and wide.

"Ooh she got you good Robby-boy." The second man, the one with the higher voice, was laughing uproariously, his hand slapping against the wood of the tree he was leaning against. He was different than she might have assumed. For one he was about six feet tall and built like a brick shithouse not exactly the kind of look one attributed to a high almost girlish voice. Shaggy dirty blonde hair fell down over dark blue eyes over a large bulbous nose. She idly noticed through his wide smiling mouth that his teeth were actually in pretty good condition compared to the ones in corpses in the hou-. Her face went white oh fuck, she had remembered that. She leaned over and vomited into the wintery bushes.

"Oh Lord, Lady are you alright." The first man, who was short and stout with a dirty shaved head, Robert she assumed, had managed to stand without her noticing and was now hovering at her elbow. All she could manage to do was groan weakly and lean against him.

"Oh God Almighty Adam look at her face!" Robert seized her chin with the fingers of his free hand and was twisting her ashen face this way and that. Her face ached, but so did the rest of her. The fingers gently probed the left side of her face and suddenly her nerves lit on fire, she jerked away.

"Who the fuck are you? Where the fuck am I?"

"Ooh I told you she was foreign didn't I!" Robert clapped his hands slightly, his large face beaming now.

"Oh shut up you big lug!" Adam hissed at the larger man he stepped slightly forwards toward Ari who scooted backwards."Who did this to you?" he gestured at his face, running a finger along the side of his face where his touch only seconds ago had pained her.

She mulled her response over in her head for a second, trying to dredge up as much information about the men who had almost raped her yesterday.

"Conical helmet, dark tabard," she rambled on and on, words spilling out and over her mouth. She only stopped when Robert seized her arm.

"How did you escape?!" He demanded, "How?! Those were the personal Guard of the Sherriff of Nottingham!" His voice boomed in the close confines of the forest, seeming to echo all around them, his face had gone grey. His grip was tight now.

"They will follow you, even here. They will hang you and then they will find out we have helped you and they will hang us." His voice was softer now, his eyes wide.

"I slammed one of them over the head while he was busy trying to RAPE ME!" she screamed back at him twisting her arm form his hold and viciously shoving him backwards. She could see Adam still against the tree and she turned towards him "Now tell me where I am!" Her face was bright with indignation.

"You're in Sherwood Forest, Lady." Adam said his face stretched a concerned look plaster against his face. She paused poised to go stomping off in the woods.

"Sherwood Forest?" Her voice was soft, "As in the _English_ Sherwood Forest."

Adam looked confused, "You mean you didn't get that from our accents."

&&&&&&&&&

"So let me get this straight," she asked leaning back the rough hewn chair and kicking her feet up onto the scarred and pitted wooden table that was the main dominating presence in the small one room home that Robert and Adam shared. She nodded at them settling the wooden mug that had been filled with sour stew back down on the tabletop.

"You want me to help you," she gestured at the both of them, "rob a shipment of tax money bound for the Sheriff of Nottingham's castle in order to pay you back for sheltering me from the Sheriffs men."

They both nodded eager grins on their faces.

"You know you both insane right." She deadpanned.

"Mmm, yes more than likely. But the matter of the fact is we don't really care." Robert settled himself down into another chair across from her as he spoke nodding to Adam who settled down at the head of the far from the roaring fire at the end of the room.

"Now please enlighten me as to the whys and the hows of this particular situation if you please, and not to mention how I could even help." She frowned at them and let her feet fall against the floor."I mean I'm probably insane or in a coma."

"Insane? Yea we figured that, what with the dressin in men's cloths and totin a bow around and all." This little gem came from Adam who had scooted his chair back and was picking at his dirty nails as if maybe he tried hard enough he could make some headway in the constant fight against dirt he was waging.

'"Not to mention you throw a punch like a man. Which, is a reason why we could use you. You seem more competent that me or dog face over their at this sort of thing."

"Violence you mean?"

"Exactly"

"It's not what it looks like." She quipped.

Adam; "Usually isn't"

"And why are we doing this."

"Well someone needs to do something about the Sheriff, and Robin Hood can't do it all alone." Robert thumped his fist against the wood of the table in emphasis, "and after that little spectacle the Sheriff made with hanging all those members of his gang last week were almost certain he won't be active for some time."

"Wounds like that need time to heal." Adam interjected with a morose tone. There was a moment of silence before Ari interrupted

"Robin Hood? Steals from the rich gives to the poor? That Robin Hood" She raised her eyebrow at the both of them. Things were just getting harder and harder for her to believe. Men burning houses with victims of disease and slaughter both within its walls, being subjected to attempted rape, finding herself in what seemed to be medieval England, but Robin Hood, that just seemed a little overboard even for this.

"You're asking who Robin Hood is?" Robert looked aghast, as if it was s in to have never heard of the man.

"Told you she was foreign!" Adam singed in delight.

"For fucks sake, answer the damn question would you." Her eyebrow twitched meningfuly.

"Ooh feisty I see." Robert grinned as Adam flushed in embarrassment. "Anyway to answer your question, Robin Hood _used_ to be Robin of Locksley the Earl of Huntington. He went off on the crusades to protect King Richard and was gone for some years-"

"And when he came back there was a new Sheriff of Nottingham who was a bad shit and got him kicked out and he turned into an outlaw, am I right" she finished cutting the man off with a wave of her hand.

"I thought you said you didn't know who he was!"

"I never said that, I just didn't believe you at first."

"Bloody weird she is." Adam whispered conspiratorially eyes flicking between the two others in the room.

"I heard that you big lug." She fired back at him. He just grinned at her, his big face flushed but happy.

"Well do you have any further questions? Or are you just going to be belligerent again?" Robert asked leaning backwards and brushing some imagined speck of dirt from the front of his tunic.

"Only one," she leaned forward resting her elbows on the rough table top, "how are we going to do this meatheads?"

&&&&&&&&&

When they came out of the forest at the cart Ari was sure the driver almost wet himself in fear. Apparently they were not expected. She had her bow out and at the ready, and the two brothers were wielding two stout cudgels and murderous grins. Her only part in this little scheme was to stand around and point her bow at someone if they got uppity. The both of them had assured her that everything would go perfectly well and that no one would get hurt permanently. With the recent hanging of a large part of Robin Hood's gang the shipments of money through the great Sherwood Forest were guarded by nothing more than a small contingent of personally hired guards. Robert had said something about the Sheriff being unwilling to pay his own personal guard to work on this particular shipment.

The man being a cheapskate had done some good for the three amateur outlaws because the four men the tax collector had hired for protection were easy enough for her two accomplices to club into submission. She was relieved she didn't have to shoot anyone. An arrow was a powerful weapon, one that could do a whole lot of damage even if the shooter was a careful well trained person. Ari carefully stepped over the inert form of a guard an arrow knocked and carefully aimed at the driver, and presumed tax collector. He stared down at her from his perch eyes wide and she gestured with the tip of the bow for him to descend. Shaking the man did so his eyes never straying from her.

"On your knees, hands laced together above your head." She said edging closer to him bow held menacingly eyes darting to the forest around them. She might have been paranoid, but in a situation like this who wouldn't be. In the background she could hear Robert begin climbing in and around the carriage, searching for the chests that contained the coins the man was supposed to be transporting to Nottingham Castle. There were a few tense moments as Robert was rummaging around before finally, he spoke, his voice bleak and un-amused.

"There's no money in here."

"What?!" Adam jumped onto the cart shoving his face into the darkened interior where the goods were supposed to be held.

"Well that's a jolly disappointment, and here we were looking for some sort of compensation for coming out all this way." Ari's eyes widened in surprise that voice, a rich tenor, was neither Robert's nor Adam's and it was coming from right behind her. Whirling she brought her bow up only to be frozen in place as she was greeted by a smiling unfamiliar face.

A tall lanky, handsome, man with cobalt blue eyes and a crooked smile was standing behind her his stance easy and light hands clasped around a bow not to unlike her own. He was scruffy that was sure, but he held himself with an air of confidence that belied his dirty clothing and scruffy looks. Though if she was going to admit it to herself he looked quite good scruffy.

"Ooh you're a woman." He cocked his head backwards regarding her with a delighted look. She frowned; "Robert, Adam?" she drawled not daring to glance at the cart.

"Uh, sorry Ari." Adam managed to look both chagrined and amused at the same time as he and his brother were roughly shoved into her line of sight by five other scruffy looking outlaws of various heights and apparent dispositions, at least she presumed, because really how many other kinds of people waylaid a cart that had already been waylaid, and then didn't immediately kill the first group of waylaiers.

"Seriously? Seriously?!" She ground out at the two of them, "What happened to 'don't' worry Ari this'll go smooth as a baby's bottom, don't you worry'."

"Well we didn't have much chance." Robert mused a thoughtful look on his face, "I mean these are the real deal. Robin Hood if I remember my faces correctly, and his little group of outlaws."

"You'd be correct good sir." The man in front of her affably said sliding a hand across his stubbly jaw a sincere little grin on his face.

"Oh you're in for it now ya little she daemon." The tax man behind her crooned in delight. Ari snorted and kicked out backwards with one booted heel. She could practically taste the satisfying feeling of the hard leather breaking the man's nose, as well as the crunching sound and a short startled scream of pain.

"Shut up you." She muttered. Robin glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her who was now writhing in pain with a sort of amused grin on his face. She felt a little relieved his whole attention wasn't on her anymore, it was a tad disconcerting to tell the least. She sucked her breath back in as he returned his attention.

"Feisty aren't you." He remarked his eyes narrowing in a fox-like grin.

"S'what I said." Remarked one of the brothers amusedly. "Shut up." She didn't even sound particularly angry this time around, more like she was resigned.

"Anyway," Robin started drawing her attention back onto him, "Why don't you put down the bow and tell me why your robbing this nice man."

"Why don't you let my," she paused, "associates, go first and then we can have a nice long chatty conversation about why we're all trying to rip of the same people, because if I remember correctly you're the one who usually runs this kind of thing in Sherwood." She fired back at him.

"Oh were just trying to be you, and she kind of owed us one, so we made her help." Adam piped up from his hold in the grip of a very large man with dark hair and a shaggy beard. This time both she and Robert glared him into silence.

"Well she certainly would make a better looking you Robin." This remark came from a thin man with short spiky blond hair and a smirk as wide as the Nile.

"Oh thanks Allan, I think we all acknowledge that." Robin turned slightly to make a face at the other man, a kind of grimace and a half shrug. Ari stuffed the smile back down as it started, there was no need to be amused.

"All joking aside," She started, "since you're here and all I think my debt has been repaid." She shot a look at Robert who just shrugged, "So I'll just be leaving now, and maybe you should just let them go to, there only trying to do something good, and none of you lot are in the position to be pointing fingers."

Robin blinked and turned to his merry band. "What do you think?" he asked with a shrug crossing his arms across his chest.

"I say we let them go, they have no business here, and they were only trying to help." This came from a small brown skinned man with deep brown eyes.

"I agree with Djaq." Said the large man holding Adam and the shorter dark haired man with a large axe strapped to his back nodded slightly. Allan wagged his eyebrows at her and she gave him the finger, he apparently got the gesture because he smiled back at her in a rather condescending way. Another man, dressed in a tattered waistcoat and a dirty head wrap, who seemed to be carrying half his weight in goods and weapons spoke up.

"Well Master I think letting these people go would be a grand idea, because all this time were taking up talking could be used for something more productive, like finding some food."

"Oh Much," Robin scolded in an affectionate tone, "There are sometimes more important things than where our next meal is from." He smiled down at Ari who just stared right back at him, he seemed just as amused by this reaction as he might have been by any other.

"Oooh, there won't be once the sheriff has your head." Ari half turned towards the tax man another curse on her lips, her bow point wavered downwards as her body twisted to the side her attention now on the taxman and not the outlaw. She soon cursed her own inattention as she felt the bow top being pulled and yanked forward her body twisting and crashing into Robin's. She struggled as her bow slipped from her fingers and dropped to the ground with a clatter. His hot breath ghosted against the shell of her ear and she felt herself starting to blush. Outlaw or no, he was handsome and she was a living breathing non ice hearted woman, this f

"Now that we have that little problem take care of would you like to tell me your name?" he asked his breath puffing lightly as he tightened his careful hold to keep her bucking body securely in his arms.

The bruised and battered man had started to laugh quietly his face already a raccoon's mask of blood and bruises. Ari's forehead wrinkled, it made no sense for- her thoughts stutterd to a hault. Robin had heard the laughter as well and he ducked his head down under her chin to get a better look. She could feel the stubble on his chin scratching against her clavicle as he leaned down and she suppressed the shiver that crawled up her spine. The taxman continued to laugh, his pitch growing ever louder and more pronounced. She leaned backwards into Robin titling her head upwards, ignoring the sharp pain of the quiver digging into her lower back. M The path before them was clear, and it occurred to her that there were no birds singing in the woods.

"They followed him." She whispered eyes growing wide, behind her Robin stilled lifting his own head over hers to regard the path that winded away from their feet and the little hollow where they had all chosen to ambush the cart.

"They followed him." She yelled over Robin's shoulder at her two companions, and then everything went surreal all at once. In the distance the pounding of hoof beats became evident and the tax mans howls of laughter skyrocketed.

"You'll all hang!" he gleefully shouted rolling around on the ground hands clasped to his face. Robin's fingers released from her upper arms just as the first rider crested the hill. All around her men were scattering into the trees. Those tabards, they were the sheriffs men, and they were coming for them. At the head of the column was a handsome man dressed all in dark leather, who was staring her down like he was a hound and she the fox. In another time and place Ariana probably would have fled with her tail in-between her legs as Robert and Adam were doing even then, but now, in this moment she was spurred onwards. It might have been fear, or hatred, but either way she held her ground there on that dusty trail. Darting downwards she grasped the cool fiberglass of her bow and fitted and arrow to it. Drawing the arrow back and sighting down the shaft, she sucked in a single deep breath and held it. Her body stilled and she had a crystal moment to consider what she was about to try and do, and in a split second she made her decision.

The arrow sung outwards from her, and the lead horse floundered as an arrow stuck in its barrel chest, down it went taking its rider with it. The narrow path was chaos as horses and riders panicked and desperately tried to keep themselves safe and off the ground. She had a moment to let out a fierce grin before she felt herself whipping around and plunging into the trees, her wrist clasped firmly in the large calloused had of one outlaw named Robin Hood.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

The interior of Nottingham Castle was as cold and as damp as it seemed from the outside, and twice as miserable. The Sheriff of Nottingham looked out at his desk from between steepled fingers a sly smile on his face. Guy of Gisbourne his most trusted man stood before him clasped in his gloved hands a large silverish arrow of a make neither man had ever seen before.

"It seems we have a new player on the field, hum." The Sheriff's eyes were alight and a smile stretched across his waxy face.

* * *

Contact the Author at: ergo-nerd(at)hotmail(dot)com or (AIM) MellophoneLass


	4. Run

It was about three seconds into the run that Ari almost tripped over the first exposed root. No matter how easy movies made it appear, running through and unfamiliar wood at high speed was not at all easy or enjoyable. Though she stumbled Robin kept a firm grip of her wrist, not glancing back as he plunged into the undergrowth around them, face ahead as if he had an internal compass guiding his way. She had to guess that in a way he did, Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest were intrinsically locked together in any story told about the man. This version of him was obviously no different.

As they darted around trees and through bushes Ari spared a second to glance backwards into the trees behind them. She could see no pursuers dogging them now, but still onwards they went dodging branches and leaping logs like deer. Whipping her head back around she hurtled after the Earl of Huntington in the misty green light of the midday forest. The longer they bound through the trees the more confidant she became. Her legs pumped under her and her lungs and muscles burned, but it was a good kind of burn, something she hadn't experienced in years, the thrill of the run. It might have had something to do with the four years she had run track in high school, but muscle memory like that never truly went away from someone, and it was certainly not something to be spitting at now.

And then it happened, laughter bubbled up in her throat, and her eyes started stinging. Here she was, a twenty five year old social secretary come competition archer, who had just participated in a smash and hit robbery and who ha committed animal cruelty, and she was running away from the scene of the crime with the most famous outlaw that had ever existed. At that little gem of a thought she simply couldn't hold it back any longer, and she literally burst out in hysterical laughter, her steps lagging as she pressed her free hand against her sternum and just sputtered. Slowly Robin ground to a halt and glanced back at her curiously.

"You alright?" he asked releasing her wrist and turning a perplexed face towards her. She let the laughter die down and regarded him with a look that hovered between ecstatic and frantic.

"Blindingly." She remarked.

"Well you certainly seem to be enjoying yourself –" he trailed off eyebrows tilting up in a significant gesture. She got what he meant, and grinned back at him, his face lit up as he answered her smile with one of his own. He seemed a cheery sort of man for an outlaw. Slinging her bow around her back she held out her hand.

"Ari." She offered, he glanced down and then back up in surprise eyebrows rising again. It was about that time that she belatedly remembered that only men usually shook hands, if she wasn't confusing her time periods again. She just offered him a shrug and a lopsided smile. He glanced down again before grasping her arm in his, hand on wrists. A traditional sort of greeting that offered peace between people.

"If you don't mind me saying, you're a bit more personable now."

"Ah yes, well now we seem to be on the same side, sort of." He seemed to think this an appropriate response as he just shrugged. Like he had been through this situation before in another time and place and so was now immune to surprise at that answer.

"It's not often I have beautiful women pointing deadly weapons at me you know." He remarked idly as he gestured her for her to begin following him again. They started into the forest again, at a much slower and more deliberate pace. He led, a half a step ahead, and spared a glance in her direction every few seconds.

"Well it's not every day I'm asked to help in an armed robbery." She answered, "So I think were both having rather strange days." She dragged a hand through her hair and frowned when she realized just how loose it was, she would need to re-braid and pin it soon.

"Now help me figure something out." he started as he paused at the edge of a small ravine and sliding his way down the dirt overhang.  
"I can do my best." She answered accepting his hand of help in scrambling down after him.

"Where you're from, considering your accent is not English, nor any other I have ever heard."

"America, well the United States of America, to be exact."

"Never heard of it." He offered jovially.

"I wouldn't expect you to. It won't exist for about another eight hundred years."

Robin paused mid step and swiveled back towards her.  
"Eight hundred years!? You must think me mad to believe something like that. A woman gaining training in the bow, that I can believe no matter how farfetched it might seem to my fellow countrymen, but traveling through the ages and a country that has yet to be founded?"

"Oh no I had assumed I was the crazy one." She waved her hand, "after all, think how it appears to me, I'm stuck in the far past and I'm walking at talking to a man considered a legend, the kind that's not real."

"A legend? Really?" he looked pleased.

"Oh yes, bonnie Robin Hood of Sherwood forest. He steals from the rich and gives to the poor."

"I'm more inclined to believe you now." He teased.

"Oh I thought you might be."

He grinned at her like she had done something particularly welcome. She supposed she had, this Robin seemed like a man who needed recognition like a plant needed water. She didn't fault him for it; she was much the same way. She shrugged her shoulders and rubbed at the back of her neck absently. She must have been overtaking her shoulder and back muscles with all of the shooting she had done lately, coupled with the lack of sleep and the bruises that now peppered her back courtesy of the rough wooden walls of a barn and an unknown Sheriffs guard.

"Your shoulders hurt?" he asked apparently forgetting that he had thought her mad only seconds ago, even if that had more amused than horrified him.

"Ah yes.' She offered him a commiserate glance and he just grinned. He understood, at least in part, the kind of pain that could come from being a bowman, if not the pain of her other blows.

"Now we really need to find the camp. I'm sure your friends are anxious to see you again."

"Ah of course." She ruminated. "They'll be just desperate I'm sure."

* * *

"Your gonna have ta keep her."

"Robert! You don't have to sound so relieved about it!" Ari cuffed him in the back of the head lightly a frown on her face. They had gained the camp in what seemed like an instant, she and her odd escort. The outlaws were good at hiding themselves in the damp eaves and boughs of the forest, and their camp reflected that. The small lean-tos and tiny fire pit were tucked away in a small dip in the landscape, one that could easily have been missed by an unassuming eye. She guessed that was the intent of the whole matter.

As it happened the small area was rather crowded at the moment. Ari, Robert, and Adam were almost completely surrounded by the six outlaws. All of whom were watching the events occurring with a jaundice eye.

"She cannot stay with us!" This came from Allan who was looking aghast at the mere mention of the thought.

"As much as I dislike agreeing with him, Allan's right for once." Much nodded in abrupt agreement.

"Well she cannot come back with us." Adam shot an apologetic look in her direction. "She's wanted by the Sheriff's men!"  
"His men mind you not the Sheriff himself." Robert added.

"Why would you be wanted by the guards?" Djaq slid forwards a questioning look on her caramel face. Ari wondered if she was trying to disguise herself as a man, because it looked like she had been at one point, and had recently given up. Her face was feminine enough to be evident but her hair was a short messy mop of dark brown and her clothing was obviously not what any woman, not even a Saracen woman, would usually be caught dead wearing. The archer felt a sort of kinship with her, if not for simply being female, than for being stuck in an eerily similar situation to her own. They were both fishes out of water here in this England, though Djaq seemed comfortable where she was now.

"I clubbed one of them over the head and escaped from a house where they were burning dozens of people, both dead and mostly alive."

"Mostly alive?" Much asked.

"Well I didn't stop to check anyone's pulses as I was choking to death on smoke, no, but I assume some of them were at least only unconscious." She shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably, "As there were victims of both disease and what appeared to be violence all stacked in together."

"Sickness?!" Little John stared at her eyes wide in horror. 'What village were you in girl?" he asked lowering his eyes in a menacing glare.

She swallowed visibly, mouth suddenly dry and hot as she remembered that she was surrounded by unknown supposedly dangerous elements, and one of them was angry.

"Uh, I don't know I bolted into Sherwood and collapsed under a tree somewhere." She looked uncomfortable, "You could ask those two about it, they found me." Ari pointed slowly towards the two brothers who were staring at her like some kind of mutant monster. Ari remembered she hadn't actually told either of them the details of her very brief encounter with the Guard.

"Oh now were definitely not taking her back with us." Adam whispered to his brother who could only nod in return, his face a sheet of white.

"This is worrisome." Robin muttered scratching a hand across his chin. Ari had guessed, having seen the gesture numerous times by now, that this was some sort of worry habit of his, like how she chewed on the ends of her hair or picked at her nails.

"Listen this debate is all well and good," Adam announced, "but my brother and I really must be leaving."

"Oh yes we must." Robert mumbled.

Ari just grunted and rubbed a dirty hand across her face letting her chin hang towards her chest. She really, very desperately, wanted to lie down and sleep for a few days. The night before had been spent in planning, the night before that in restless half delirious sleep in the woods, and before that in drunken revelry. She regretted the last one, if she had slept properly instead of drinking her woes away things might have turned out differently.

"She can stay for the moment." Robin's thoughtful words interrupted her own personal pity party rather abruptly. She glanced up at him through lowered lashes, he was regarding her with a look she could not fathom. There was a collection of groans from Allan and Much, and she could feel the weight of the others gazes on her.

"Oh well good then we'd best be off." This was from Robert who was already turning to leave. Robin and Much shared a look and the shorter man moved to intercept the two departing brothers, while Robin moved towards her. Ari watched him come warily. He nodded his chin toward the edge of the small bowl and she carefully stepped towards it. Once completely separated from the rest of the group, minus Much, who had settled in again and were not even trying to hide the snooping glances sent in their direction.

"I do not know what to make of you Ari." Robin started crossing his arms tightly across his chest. She watched him quietly leaning against a half rotted stump.

"Or I of you Robin." She answered evenly.

"You will stay here in Sherwood with us, you will be given a tag for identification purposes, but you will not go with us when we raid. I have no measure of you, and I do not trust you. "

"Smart man, I wouldn't trust me either." She gave him a crooked smile when he just stared at her. She figured as used as he was to strangeness she was probably blowing the top of his Holy Shit Quotient for the day already. She rubbed her hands up and down her exposed forearms trying to instill some heat in them. It was getting colder by the second and she was reminded that even if the snow was only an inch or so deep in the area around the camp, that it was still very much late or early winter in 1192 A.D.

"We need to get you a cloak." He said staring at the goose bumps that were dotting her flesh.

"Just get me some material and I can make my own." She said swiping a hand again at her falling bangs.

"No you'll need one tonight unless you fancy freezing to death." She grimaced.

"You have a point."

"Course I do." He gestured with his chin back towards the camp a smirk on his expressive face. She didn't fight the frown that crept onto her face, and he didn't seem to mind. She trailed behind him hands still rubbing at her arms, even going so far as to tug the perpetually pushed up sleeves of her shirt down to her wrists. Reaching a small pile of gear, a pack and bedroll if she guessed right, he dropped down onto the balls of his feat, and easy and relaxed stance for him it seemed, and opened the well worn leather top of the traveling bag and began to rummage through it slowly. It was a few seconds before he grasped what he was after. Lifting himself back up he held a large bundle of dark rough cloth out at her in outstretched hands.

"You can use my spare for now, until we can find you something that fits better." He seemed slightly disturbed, like he had just remembered something unwelcome; she offered him a wan smile and took the bundle. Stepping back and shaking it out revealed a slightly worn light brown cloak. It was much too long, being obviously made specifically for someone of his height, or slightly shorter. She nodded her thanks and slipped it on, trying the clasp quickly and burying her face into it as far as she could force it. Her nose had gone numb some hours ago and she liked the idea of having feeling back in it sometime soon.

"Will!" Robin called out waving over her shoulder. She half turned hands clasping the hem of the cloak closed at the front, her nose still buried beneath the thick scratchy cloth. A man medium height with shaggy dark hair and a thin sparse mustache was walking from where he must have been sitting at the fire towards them. She took note of the axe casually strapped across his back, and the almost blank stare he was shooting at her.

"Ari Blackwell." She said inserting her voice neatly in front of Robin who had opened his mouth again, presumably to introduce her. She stuck her hand out from its new warm haven and stared at Will carefully. He looked surprised his eyebrows lifting slightly.

"Will Scarlett." He murmured accepting her hand; his shake was firm and his hand warm over hers. He didn't seem the bad sort, and he must have been very close to her age, though perhaps a few years younger.

"Robin says I need a tag." She said cutting off Robin yet again. The blond snapped his mouth shut again and looked peeved. She supposed he wasn't used to being upstaged. Her abruptness apparently amused Will, for he cracked a small smile, she returned it.

"Aye, you'll be needing one if you plan to stay." His voice was quiet and firm. She felt herself warming to him already.

"I would appreciate it greatly." She stated gravely nodding her head slightly.

"It is no problem miss." Ah so he was polite as well, someone had been, as her mother might have said "Raised Right.".

"Just Ari if you please."

"As you wish." He nodded slightly at Robin who still stood behind her and offered her another small smile before retreating back to his perch on an upturned log next to the fire.

"You're awfully forward aren't you?" Robin asked a slightly smarmy lit in his voice.

"A bit," she agreed sagely, "so I have to ask where do I sleep?" she turned her head slightly as he stepped forward hovering next to her shoulder.

"You can sleep near Djaq if it's fine with her, otherwise it'd be for the best to stick close to me for now."

"Ah, for the _best_ huh." She gave him a sly smile and he let out a little theatrical gasp and fluttered a hand to his breast.

"Oh dearheart why would you ever think such a thing of me?!" He tried, and failed, to sound chagrined. She just waved a hand at him and started across the camp towards a small rise where Djaq sat, her hands busy with some sort of sewing work on what appeared to be a leather jerkin. Behind her she could clearly hear Robin's amused chuckles and then the beginnings a quite conversation.

Djaq looked up brown eyes cautious as she approached, and she offered her a small wave and a contrite smile. As she slid closer Ari simply sat herself down next to the woman, the low rise they now sat on was just inclined enough that she had to dig her heels into the soft dirt to make a suitability supported seating position.

"Ari." She offered quietly.

"Djaq." The brown skinned woman answered back. Her fingers threaded the thick needle back and forth slowly tugging the thread taught. Ari noted that the woman was good at it, probably better than she was, though that was no real surprise when she stopped to consider that in this day and age most people couldn't afford to have someone mend or make clothing for them.

"You want some help?" Djaq looked mildly surprised one eyebrow rising to her hairline. Ari smiled shyly and rubbed the back of her neck, but happily accepted the worn shirt Djaq handed her. The hours whiled away in semi-silence, and Ari felt satisfied as the mending pieces got harder and harder, _this_ at least she could handle. As the sun started to set the men started to settle around the fire and Much lorded over the stewpot a smile on his handsome face. It was with a lighter, if not completely relieved heart, that she joined them and accepted the small wooden bowl filled with soup.

* * *

When Ari slammed back into wakefulness in the dead of night it wasn't with a yell or a scream. It was with a small gasp of pain and fear that came from deep within her chest and heaved out between clenched teeth. She lay sweating underneath the thick cloak eyes wide and pulse rising. Nearby she could hear the even breaths of Djaq and farther away a chorus of male snores. Easing up she shucked her new cloak off leaving it pooled across her legs as she sat. She rubbed a shaking hand through her sweat matted hair and cursed quietly as she finally dislodged a large chunk of it from the pins that confined it.

Ripping the pins and bands out of her hair as quietly as she possibly could, after all there was no need to wake anyone else, she scattered them in her lap. She raked a hand through the thick tangled dark brown length and scratched fiercely where pins and needles sparkled across her scalp. She wished she had some sort of light to do this by, but the fire had been banked early on so as not to give away their position with its tale tell glow.

"Ari?" the named woman flinched in surprise at the calm, if inquisitive, voice seemed to bark out in the natural quiet of the forest. She tipped her head to the side and caught sight of Will perched on the same log he had sat on all afternoon. She blinked and let out a whistling breath of relief.

"Will." She returned wearily.

"Nightmares?" He shifted slightly settling into the rough bark of his seat.

"Something of that nature, yes." She reached back and started to brush her hair out with her fingers, slow soothing motions, deliberate and easy. Will watched in silence, eyes watchful. Turning and pulling she twisted her hair back into some semblance of order, it wasn't pretty, but it was functional.

"Sleep well Ari." He said and turned away.

"I can try, but no promises, huh."


End file.
